


are we too deep in the night to see the day?

by rxginamills



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Recover - Ruelle, i like using songs with fics deal with it, i pair a song with a fic almost every time i write, i’m really proud of this, my heart hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-05 19:47:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18372866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxginamills/pseuds/rxginamills
Summary: Fili becomes King under the Mountain. He loathes it.





	are we too deep in the night to see the day?

_Can you see me?_   
_I can barely see myself_   
_Are we only_   
_Empty frames up on the shelf?_

 

* * *

 

So far Fili had despised everything about the day he was experiencing. He spoke to no one but Dwalin but mostly kept to himself. Fili wanted to shut out the world and escape; hide in a room deep within the kingdom and barricade the door. Balin had tried to reason with him but he refused to listen, being the stubborn dwarf that he was. 

It was the first day ever in his life that Fili hated having the blood of Durin running in his veins. It was the first day that Fili hated what he was, and dreaded what he was becoming. He had not chosen this fate, at least not now. 

But his people needed him. Who was he to leave his kingdom or his mother, his sweet and tender mother who had already lost too much? Fili loved his mother more than anyone, and she was the only reason he was doing this. 

Ori draped the long cape over his shoulders and Fili felt like the fabric was burning through his skin. His body was not meant for the cape, not yet. There wasn’t a single part of him that was prepared for the approaching challenge. 

Fili’s heart froze deep in his chest as Balin gestured towards the large stone doors with teary eyes. He took a shaky step back.

”I don’t want to.” he whispered, knowing that he sounded like a little boy (and the little boy would’ve given the world to have his mother’s arms around him in that moment). 

Balin’s gaze upon Fili softened and he moved away from the door, ”Fili... they’re waiting for you, my lad.” 

Fili shook his head, ”It’s not right. It should— it should be— ”

”I know,” Balin said and went to hug Fili, ”I know.” 

Dwalin and Ori looked down at their hands sadly. Fili trembled in Balin’s embrace, trying to catch his breath. He stood up and straightened his cape. This was his duty, and he would see it through even if it broke him into pieces.

He looked at his friends for reassurance and found it in their brave, kind eyes. Fili took a deep breath and focused his steely gaze on the doors in front of him. Dwalin and Balin pushed them open and he took the first step towards an unknown future.

 

* * *

  

_It's like we're dreaming wide awake_   
_Everything bends until it breaks_

 

* * *

 

The hall of stone was a chilling sight. Legions of dwarves stood before him in perfect lines while the rest of Thorin Oakenshield’s company waited for him next to his spot in the room. Fili noticed the crown instantly and shuddered. 

Then his eyes moved to a woman standing beside Gandalf and Radagast. It was Dis, his mother, the one person who made everything worth it. Kili had promised her that he would return, and Fili had done the same. Only one of them kept that promise. 

Fili could see that his mother was proud of him, but at the same time she wished he didn't have to take on such a job, especially under these circumstances. Fili wished for the same from the bottom of his heart. If it was his decision, he wouldn't become king that day. For all he cared Erebor could remain kingless for the rest of its days until it became hollow and abandoned. All he wanted was for his family to come back to him. It was the one thing he couldn't make true. 

Slowly Fili took his place in the center, standing as tall and proud as he could. Balin took the crown into his shaking hands and gently set it on Fili’s head. He cringed slightly. The crown was too heavy for his head, heavy with the weight he would have to carry for the rest of his days. Nothing felt as wrong as standing there in front of those people and their unwavering loyalty. They were meant to be drawing out their swords for Fili’s uncle. 

Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, the King under the Mountain who was never even properly crowned. It was _his_ crown on Fili’s head, _his_ people standing there in silence. Thorin was supposed to be taking his place as king, and Fili’s little brother Kili, that foolish, too-brave-for-his-own good dwarf was supposed to be there watching. Fili couldn’t stop himself from thinking that if he had stayed with his brother, if they had faced Azog together with their uncle, they could’ve all made it out.

_Your_ _fault_ , the crown seemed to whisper to him, _your_ _fault_ _your_ _fault_ _your_ _fault_ , and Fili couldn’t get it to stop. He wanted nothing more than to run away.

”It is not my crown.” he whispered to no one in particular, so quietly that he couldn’t be heard. 

” _It is your crown.”_

Fili could’ve recognized that voice anywhere. It was his uncle speaking to him. Whispering to him from a better place. 

” _You’re a good king, brother. Always have been.”_

It was his baby brother, his Kili with that stupid grin and a heart of adventure that matched his own, Kili who had fallen madly in love with an elf and died for her too. Fili was no longer sure if he was going insane or if his better half was actually speaking to him, but somehow he was less afraid. 

”The King is dead!” Gandalf announced with his deep voice, confirming Thorin’s passing. Fili hated those words.

”Long live the King!” yelled Balin, pulling his sword from his sheath and raising it up in the air. The other dwarves followed his lead, sending a majestic echo through the room. Fili bowed his head, a teardrop trickling down his cheek. 

He was now King under the Mountain. 

  

* * *

 

_Can we recover?_   
_Can we get over this?_   
_Are we too deep in the night to see the day?_   
_Can we recover?_   
_Can we get over this?_   
_Are we too frozen inside to feel the flame?_


End file.
